The Bābur-nāma in English (Memoirs of Bābur)
Turki, as Babur writes it—terse, word-thrifty, restrained and
lucid,—comes over neatly into Anglo-Saxon English, perhaps through
primal affinities. Studying Babur's writings in verbal detail taught me
that its structure, idiom and vocabulary dictate a certain mechanism for
a translator's imitation. Such are the simple sentence, devoid of
relative phrasing, copied in the form found, whether abrupt and brief
or, ranging higher with the topic, gracious and dignified—the retention
of Babur's use of "we" and "I" and of his frequent impersonal
statement—the matching of words by their root-notion—the strict
observance of Babur's limits of vocabulary, effected by allotting to one
Turki word one English equivalent, thus excluding synonyms for which
Turki has little use because not shrinking from the repeated word;
lastly, as preserving relations of diction, the replacing of Babur's
Arabic and Persian aliens by Greek and Latin ones naturalized in
English. Some of these aids towards shaping a counterpart of Turki may
be thought small, but they obey a model and their aggregate has power to
make or mar a portrait.
(1) Of the uses of pronouns it may be said that Babur's "we" is neither
regal nor self-magnifying but is co-operative, as beseems the chief
whose volunteer and nomad following makes or unmakes his power, and who
can lead and command only by remittent consent accorded to him. His "I"
is individual. The _Memoirs_ varies much from these uses.
(2) The value of reproducing impersonal statements is seen by the
following example, one of many similar:—When Babur and a body of men,
making a long saddle-journey, halted for rest and refreshment by the
road-side; "There was drinking," he writes, but Erskine, "I drank"; what
is likely being that all or all but a few shared the local _vin du
pays_.
(3) The importance of observing Babur's limits of vocabulary needs no
stress, since any man of few words differs from any man of many.
Measured by the Babur-nama standard, the diction of the _Memoirs_ is
redundant throughout, and frequently over-coloured. Of this a pertinent
example is provided by a statement of which a minimum of seven
occurrences forms my example, namely, that such or such a man whose life
Babur sketches was vicious or a vicious person (_fisq_, _fāsiq_).
Erskine once renders the word by "vicious" but elsewhere enlarges to
"debauched, excess of sensual enjoyment, lascivious, libidinous,
profligate, voluptuous". The instances are scattered and certainly
Erskine could not feel their collective effect, but even scattered, each
does its ill-part in distorting the Memoirs portraiture of the man of
the one word.[35]
POSTSCRIPT OF THANKS.
I take with gratitude the long-delayed opportunity of finishing my book
to express the obligation I feel to the Council of the Royal Asiatic
Society for allowing me to record in the Journal my Notes on the Turki
Codices of the _Babur-nama_ begun in 1900 and occasionally appearing
till 1921. In minor convenience of work, to be able to gather those
progressive notes together and review them, has been of value to me in
noticeable matters, two of which are the finding and multiplying of the
Haidarabad Codex, and the definite clearance of the confusion which had
made the Bukhara (reputed) _Babur-nama_ be mistaken for a reproduction
of Babur's true text.
Immeasurable indeed is the obligation laid on me by the happy community
of interests which brought under our roof the translation of the
biographies of Babur, Humayun, and Akbar. What this has meant to my own
work may be surmised by those who know my husband's wide reading in many
tongues of East and West, his retentive memory and his generous
communism in knowledge. One signal cause for gratitude to him from those
caring for Baburiana, is that it was he made known the presence of the
Haidarabad Codex in its home library (1899) and thus led to its
preservation in facsimile.
It would be impracticable to enumerate all whose help I keep in grateful
memory and realize as the fruit of the genial camaraderie of letters.
ANNETTE S. BEVERIDGE.
PITFOLD, SHOTTERMILL, HASLEMERE.
_August, 1921._
THE MEMOIRS OF BABUR
SECTION I. FARGHĀNA.
In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate.
In[36] the month of Ramẓān of the year 899 (June 1494) and [Sidenote:
Ḥaidarābād MS. fol. 1b.] in the twelfth year of my age,[37] I became
ruler[38] in the country of Farghāna.
(_a. Description of Farghāna._)
Farghāna is situated in the fifth climate[39] and at the limit of
settled habitation. On the east it has Kāshghar; on the west, Samarkand;
on the south, the mountains of the Badakhshān border; on the north,
though in former times there must have been towns such as Ālmālīgh,
Ālmātū and Yāngī which in books they write Tarāz,[40] at the present
time all is desolate, no settled population whatever remaining, because
of the Mughūls and the Aūzbegs.[41]
Farghāna is a small country,[42] abounding in grain and fruits. It is
girt round by mountains except on the west, _i.e._ towards Khujand and
Samarkand, and in winter[43] an enemy can enter only on that side.
[Sidenote: Fol. 2.] The Saiḥūn River (_daryā_) commonly known as the
Water of Khujand, comes into the country from the north-east, flows
westward through it and after passing along the north of Khujand and the
south of Fanākat,[44] now known as Shāhrukhiya, turns directly north and
goes to Turkistān. It does not join any sea[45] but sinks into the
sands, a considerable distance below [the town of] Turkistān.
Farghāna has seven separate townships,[46] five on the south and two on
the north of the Saiḥūn.
Of those on the south, one is Andijān. It has a central position and is
the capital of the Farghāna country. It produces much grain, fruits in
abundance, excellent grapes and melons. In the melon season, it is not
customary to sell them out at the beds.[47] Better than the Andijān
_nāshpātī_,[48] there is none. After Samarkand and Kesh, the fort[49] of
Andijān is the largest in Mawārā'u'n-nahr (Transoxiana). It has three
gates. Its citadel (_ark_) is on its south side. Into it water goes by
nine channels; out of it, it is strange that none comes at even a single
place.[50] Round the outer edge of the ditch[51] runs a gravelled
highway; the width of this highway divides the fort from the suburbs
surrounding it.
Andijān has good hunting and fowling; its pheasants grow [Sidenote: Fol.
2b.] so surprisingly fat that rumour has it four people could not
finish one they were eating with its stew.[52]
Andijānīs are all Turks, not a man in town or bāzār but knows Turkī. The
speech of the people is correct for the pen; hence the writings of Mīr
`Alī-shīr _Nawā'ī_,[53] though he was bred and grew up in Hīrī (Harāt),
are one with their dialect. Good looks are common amongst them. The
famous musician, Khwāja Yūsuf, was an Andijānī.[54] The climate is
malarious; in autumn people generally get fever.[55]
Again, there is Aūsh (Ūsh), to the south-east, inclining to east, of
Andijān and distant from it four _yīghāch_ by road.[56] It has a fine
climate, an abundance of running waters[57] and a most beautiful spring
season. Many traditions have their rise in its excellencies.[58] To the
south-east of the walled town (_qūrghān_) lies a symmetrical mountain,
known as the Barā Koh;[59] on the top of this, Sl. Maḥmūd Khān built a
retreat (_ḥajra_) and lower down, on its shoulder, I, in 902AH.
(1496AD.) built another, having a porch. Though his lies the higher,
mine is the better placed, the whole of the town and the suburbs being
at its foot.
The Andijān torrent[60] goes to Andijān after having traversed
[Sidenote: Fol. 3.] the suburbs of Aūsh. Orchards (_bāghāt_)[61] lie
along both its banks; all the Aūsh gardens (_bāghlār_) overlook it;
their violets are very fine; they have running waters and in spring are
most beautiful with the blossoming of many tulips and roses.
On the skirt of the Barā-koh is a mosque called the Jauza Masjid (Twin
Mosque).[62] Between this mosque and the town, a great main canal flows
from the direction of the hill. Below the outer court of the mosque lies
a shady and delightful clover-meadow where every passing traveller takes
a rest. It is the joke of the ragamuffins of Aūsh to let out water from
the canal[63] on anyone happening to fall asleep in the meadow. A very
beautiful stone, waved red and white[64] was found in the Barā Koh in
`Umar Shaikh Mīrzā's latter days; of it are made knife handles, and
clasps for belts and many other things. For climate and for
pleasantness, no township in all Farghāna equals Aūsh.
Again there is Marghīnān; seven _yīghāch_[65] by road to the west of
Andijān,—a fine township full of good things. Its apricots (_aūrūk_) and
pomegranates are most excellent. One sort of pomegranate, they call the
Great Seed (_Dāna-i-kalān_); its sweetness has a little of the pleasant
flavour of the small apricot (_zard-alū_) and it may be thought better
than the Semnān pomegranate. [Sidenote: Fol. 3b.] Another kind of
apricot (_aūrūk_) they dry after stoning it and putting back the
kernel;[66] they then call it _subḥānī_; it is very palatable. The
hunting and fowling of Marghīnān are good; _āq kīyīk_[67] are had close
by. Its people are Sārts,[68] boxers, noisy and turbulent. Most of the
noted bullies (_jangralār_) of Samarkand and Bukhārā are Marghīnānīs.
The author of the Hidāyat[69] was from Rashdān, one of the villages of
Marghīnān.
Again there is Asfara, in the hill-country and nine _yīghāch_[70] by
road south-west of Marghīnān. It has running waters, beautiful little
gardens (_bāghcha_) and many fruit-trees but almonds for the most part
in its orchards. Its people are all Persian-speaking[71] Sārts. In the
hills some two miles (_bīrshar`ī_) to the south of the town, is a piece
of rock, known as the Mirror Stone.[72] It is some 10 arm-lengths
(_qārī_) long, as high as a man in parts, up to his waist in others.
Everything is reflected by it as by a mirror. The Asfara district
(_wilāyat_) is in four subdivisions (_balūk_) in the hill-country, one
Asfara, one Warūkh, one Sūkh and one Hushyār. When Muḥammad _Shaibānī_
Khān defeated Sl. Maḥmūd Khān and Alacha Khān and took Tāshkīnt and
Shāhrukhiya,[73] I went into the Sūkh and Hushyār [Sidenote: Fol. 4.]
hill-country and from there, after about a year spent in great misery, I
set out _(`azīmat_) for Kābul.[74]
Again there is Khujand,[75] twenty-five _yīghāch_ by road to the west
of Andijān and twenty-five _yīghāch_ east of Samarkand.[76] Khujand is
one of the ancient towns; of it were Shaikh Maṣlaḥat and Khwāja
Kamāl.[77] Fruit grows well there; its pomegranates are renowned for
their excellence; people talk of a Khujand pomegranate as they do of a
Samarkand apple; just now however, Marghīnān pomegranates are much met
with.[78] The walled town (_qūrghān_) of Khujand stands on high ground;
the Saiḥūn River flows past it on the north at the distance, may be, of
an arrow's flight.[79] To the north of both the town and the river lies
a mountain range called Munūghul;[80] people say there are turquoise and
other mines in it and there are many snakes. The hunting and
fowling-grounds of Khujand are first-rate; _āq kīyīk_,[81]
_būghū-marāl_,[82] pheasant and hare are all had in great plenty. The
climate is very malarious; in autumn there is much fever;[83] people
rumour it about that the very sparrows get fever and say that the cause
of the malaria is the mountain range on the north (_i.e._ Munūghul).
Kand-i-badām (Village of the Almond) is a dependency of Khujand; though
it is not a township (_qaṣba_) it is rather a good approach to one
(_qaṣbacha_). Its almonds are excellent, hence its name; they all go to